


Don't forget the bard

by JinxxMarquette



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Necromancer Jaskier, Necromancy, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, geralt and jaskier, obligatory bandit fic, underestimating jaskier: BIG mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxxMarquette/pseuds/JinxxMarquette
Summary: Sometimes Jaskier cursed the day Death had made a pact with his unborn soul, tying him to the immortal life of a necromancer and all of the bizarre powers that came with it.Today was not one of those days.Bandits get the drop on Yennefer, Geralt, and Jaskier. The continent's favorite bard isn't considered a threat and is left unbound.Big mistake.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 19
Kudos: 775





	Don't forget the bard

Sometimes Jaskier cursed the day Death had made a pact with his unborn soul, tying him to the immortal life of a necromancer and all of the bizarre powers that came with it.

Today was not one of those days.

Because when you’ve been locked in a cage in the depths of some decrepit castle after being ambushed on the road with your witcher boyfriend and badass witch friend, those powers really come in handy. 

The bard pulled himself up into a sitting position on the cold stone floor, taking a look at his surroundings.

He was clearly in the dungeon of a long forgotten keep, by the look of the worn stone walls and rusted bars. The room was dark, and shadows flickered in the light of the few torches along the wall.

Jaskier cursed to himself as he felt the ache of his head, where he had been knocked unconscious during the attack.

The attack. The attack on the path that he had most certainly not been alone for.

A look around the cells confirmed the location of Geralt and Yennefer, each located in their own cells across the room. Clearly their attackers had deemed them the more worthy threat, as Geralt was weighed down in chains and Yennefer sported her own pair of silver cuffs decorated in runes. Magic suppressants. 

Jaskier scoffed. They hadn’t even bothered to use rope to bind his arms, too confident that the supposedly human bard would be little more than a nuisance. It was their mistake.

The pounding of his head moved into the background of his thoughts, and Jaskier became increasingly aware of a pain in his stomach. His fingers that caressed the area came away covered in blood. Shit.

Flashes of memory reminded him of the man who had run him through with his sword when one hit to the skull hadn’t stopped him from fighting back. On any other human this wound would have been fatal. For Jaskier, it meant a bothersome hole through his torso for a few days, and a very fussy witcher poking at his bandages and offering bowl and bowl of soup.

Yay necromancy powers. 

The bard lazily scanned the inside of his cell, looking for anything that might aid them in their mistake. Not that he necessarily needed any assistance, but Jaskier wasn’t fond of revealing the true depths of his powers to anyone, much less some low budget crew of hired bandits. He preferred to keep his abilities known to the few, better to be underestimated than overtaken.

He spared a glance over to the corner where Geralt and Yennefer lay. Jaskier sighed, a long and bothersome sound. For such a great witcher and even mightier witch couldn’t they wake up a little bit faster? He’d prefer being able to break them out when they could walk on their own, Jaskier didn’t think he could haul either of them back to their campsite. 

As if on cue a small moan sounded from the other side of the dungeon.

Jaskier glanced up to meet violet eyes blinking at him. 

“Ah, Yennefer, welcome to the land of the living! Or should I say ‘land of the living, also occupied by me’?” 

“Jaskier?” Yennefer’s brow furrowed, “What happened?”

“It appears as if we were attacked by bandits on the way back to the campsite, and not even clever ones at that. Hired men. Probably from that lordling Geralt and I pissed off a contract back. He seemed like the type for stupid baseless vengence.” Yennefer sat up, pulling herself to her feet to pace her cell. She jangled the cuffs on her wrists.

“Magic resistant cuffs. They must have been fairly well informed.” Jaskier laughed.

“Not well informed enough it seems. They haven’t bound me at all.” He flashed his unbound arms at her along with a smirk. A stupid mistake really, he had forgotten the blood that streaked his hands and forearms from his middle. Maybe Yen wouldn’t see.

Yennefer, clever witch that she is, noticed immediately. She crossed to the front of her cell, narrowing her eyes at him through the darkness.

“Jaskier, are you hurt?” 

“......no.” 

The look on Yennefer’s face had killed better men than he. 

“We’ve talked about not covering up injuries to look braver. That includes you too.” Jaskier had a will as strong as a limp noodle when it came to his witcher and his witcher. So he fessed up immediately.

“One of the men may have poked me a little with his sword when they nabbed us on the road.” 

“Jaskier” 

“Fine, he ran me through like he was intending to make the most musically inclined shish kebob known to mankind. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Are you still bleeding?”

Jaskier sucked in a breath as he peeled up his blood-soaked shirt. Even though he wasn’t technically dying, that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He winced at the blood running down his stomach in little rivulets.

“Yeah, it’s still bleeding a little.” Yennefer cursed.

“Fuck. We need to get out of here as soon as possible or you’re going to have to end up taking one of my blood replenishing potions again.”

Jaskier resolved to leave immediately. Those potions were fucking disgusting. Luckily, Geralt seemed to sense the urgency and chose that moment to reawaken.

“The fuck?” Geralt threw himself to his feet at the ready as quick as one wrapped in chains possibly could. Yennefer clapped her hands together, drawing his attention to her.

“Fantastic Geralt, you’re finally up. It appears we’ve been kidnapped, you’re covered in chains, I’ve got magic suppressing cuffs, and Jaskier’s been run through with another man’s steel.”

Nothing got Geralt furious quicker than hearing of harm done to his bard.

“Jaskier?” The witcher pressed himself against the bars of his cell, eyes searching to meet Jaskier’s own. He raised his arm in an awkward wave, trying not to flinch at the steadily increasing pain.

“Hello Geralt. Lovely day to get stabbed, isn’t it?” Geralt wasn’t amused.

“Are you okay?’

“I’ll be better as soon as we get the fuck out of this awful, disgusting dungeon. I feel like I’m going to catch a disease just from brushing up the wall in here. Now how about I get us the hell out of here?”

The look on Geralt and Yennefer’s faces was one of intense worry as they watched Jaskier heave himself to his feet, almost gagging at the pain that flared throughout his stomach. Geralt barely stopped himself from reaching out to assist him, realizing that he’d never be able to help through the iron bars between them.

“You don’t have to Jaskier. You’re hurt, you need the energy to heal, not drain it summoning the undead. We can find another way.” Jaskier laughed.

“Another way? You’re covered in chains and Yen’s locked off from her magic. I can get us out of here, and then take a nice long nap.” 

He met Geralt and Yennefer’s eyes, waiting for each of them to nod their assent before his next actions.

The bard held out a hand in front of him, closing his eyes and letting his subconscious drag down into the earth below. He could feel his power begin to condense in his fingertips, creating a soft blue glow. His power sent a call out to the underworld, and a smile crossed his face when he felt something answer.

Jaskier opened his eyes to see a skeleton pulling itself from the earth in front of his cell. As soon as it stood in front of him, it swept into a low bow and hissed words in a language foreign to all living beings except those with a connection to Death. 

Masterrrrrrrrr……..

Jaskier grinned.

“Hello there! As you can see, we’re in a little bit of a predicament, if you wouldn’t mind it would be great if you could release us?”

The skeleton spared no second thought before enacting Jaskier’s wishes, ripping open the bars of his cell like they were made of paper, and proceeding to do the same for Yen and Geralt and their bonds. 

Just as the skeleton was finishing up with Geralt’s chains, a troop of bandits swarmed into the dungeon, a man dressed in red at the head.

He was no doubt the leader of the crew, and was understandably shocked to see all of his prisoners standing free. 

“I hate to interrupt the part of this whole ordeal where you’ve undoubtedly come down here to tell us all about your evil plan of capturing us, who hired you, and what’s going to become of us, but I’m afraid we simply must go. Places to be, and all that. Luckily you won’t have to go explaining to the lordling who hired you why we’ve gone missing, because you’ll be a little preoccupied dealing with some of my dear friends!” Jaskier performed a lazy wave of his hand, his fingertips resuming the familiar glowing blue hue. The bandit seemed to be having trouble processing what exactly was going on.

“What-how,” he sputtered, but was interrupted by the screams of his men in the halls behind him. The clickity clack of bone on the stone floors brought a smile to Jaskier’s face, and the tears of flesh and ligaments being torn away filled the dungeon. The men spun around, attention taken by the new imminent threat, swords raising in shaking hands. Too easy.

Jaskier felt a hand tug on his shoulder, and was pulled through a door into a forgotten corridor after Yen and Geralt. They traipsed down hallway after hallway, collecting Jaskier’s lute and Geralt’s confiscated swords. 

After a few minutes Jaskier’s steps became less steady, and his knees began to feel more like jelly. The third time the bard had to grab the wall for support Geralt lifted him into his arms seamlessly, making sure he was comfortable before ambling on. 

It wasn’t long until they reached sunlight, but by then the world had already begun to go hazy for Jaskier. He had used up too much of his energy summoning the undead and he had lost too much blood. 

Jaskier allowed the gentle rocking of Geralt’s pace to lull him to sleep, his eyelids drifting shut against the midday sun. He knew that when he woke he would be safe and the campsite, protected in his lover’s arms and soon to be met with his overbearing fussing. There would be a warm bowl of stew, a roaring fire, and plenty of blankets. There would be laughter as Yennefer told the tale of the most recent fool who had dared to cross her, and Geralt would bury his face in Jaskier’s hair to disguise his amused smile. It would be home.

Jaskier closed his eyes, and allowed himself to dream.

**Author's Note:**

> come join me for more jaskier content on tumblr! @innocentbi-stander


End file.
